


The Treewalkers

by solarishashernoseinabook



Category: Ranger's Apprentice - John Flanagan
Genre: Addiction, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Major Character Injury, Will deals with his addiction, Will has trauma from Skandia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:28:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24041344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solarishashernoseinabook/pseuds/solarishashernoseinabook
Summary: Bandits have been plaguing merchants and travellers through the deepest depths of the Western Woods. Will, Halt and Gilan are sent to deal with it in what will be Will's first mission since he got back from Skandia. Gilan has a secret though, and if he's not careful it could doom the entire mission.
Relationships: Gilan & Halt O'Carrick, Gilan & Will Treaty, Halt O'Carrick & Will Treaty
Comments: 46
Kudos: 39





	1. In Which Gilan Has a Secret

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to elizathehumancarrot for beta reading!!

_Waning Gibbous Moon_

Halt read the mission report with the steady thrum of Will’s bowstring providing a comforting background noise. Will had been back from Skandia for six months, but Halt still found himself appreciating the little things he’d missed while Will had been a slave: the sound of Will practising, his bright eyes, and the proud little smile that spread across his face when he overcame a difficult problem. Halt had even – though he would never admit it – started appreciating the rapid-fire questions and the inconsistent way Will made coffee – sometimes too weak, sometimes too strong.   
He had also – and this he couldn’t deny – become highly protective of Will, and this newest mission had him worried.   
Abruptly he stood. ‘You keep practising. I’ll be back.’   
Will looked up. ‘Where are you going? Why can’t I come? Is it important? Who are you going to see?’   
‘You’re an apprentice. It’s not your job to ask questions.’   
Will looked put out. ‘Can I still come?’   
‘No.’   
‘Why not?’   
‘You’re an apprentice. It’s not your job to go places.’   
Halt was preparing Abelard when Will came to the stable. ‘It’s nothing to do with the – the Skandians, is it?’   
Halt looked into Abelard’s large brown eye and cursed himself. How could he let himself worry Will so much?   
He turned to Will. ‘No, nothing to do with them. I need to talk to Crowley about our mission, is all.’   
Will’s sag of relief was momentary; he quickly began to look ashamed instead. ‘Sorry,’ he mumbled. ‘Should’ve remembered…the treaty…’   
Halt’s heart twisted in his chest. He could see Will’s expression change as he started slipping into that spiral of self-blame that had become so common since he came back from Skandia. He dropped Abelard’s saddle and crossed the barn in two long strides, drawing Will into a tight hug. They stayed like that for a long time in silence, taking comfort in each other’s presence. 

* 

It was some time before Halt finally got to see Crowley. The commandant was in his office doing paperwork when Halt came in and slapped the mission report in front of him. ‘Really, Crowley? With Gilan?’   
‘He’s the only one available to help,’ Crowley said. ‘And his particular skills in tracking will be essential for this mission.’   
‘This mission will take over a month!’   
‘I did my best, Halt, really!’   
Halt leaned in. ‘He doesn’t have the silver oakleaf.’   
Crowley met Halt’s eyes. ‘Halt, I’m as concerned as you are, really. But I don’t have a choice, believe me. You, Will and Gilan are the only ones who can complete this mission.’   
Halt shoved a stack of papers off Crowley’s desk and left. 

* 

Halt didn’t voice any hint of a problem to Will that night or the next day, only telling him they had a mission to do with Gilan and they would discuss it as a group. Will seemed to accept this with little difficulty, to Halt’s relief. The last thing he wanted was for Will to sink back to that place of anxiety. Halt hated that. It tore him up to see Will overcome by his trauma, neither of them having the words to properly address the problem.   
One morning Will found Halt on the porch looking at the sun. Will handed him a cup of coffee and he sipped it automatically. He had made it too strong, but for once, Halt didn’t say anything. ‘We’re leaving today.’   
Will smiled. ‘Oh, great! Where are we going?’   
‘Tarbus River. We’ll go to the Western Woodlands from there.’   
‘That would take…’ Will frowned as he thought. ‘A week total, right?’   
‘Good,’ Halt said, nodding. ‘Now pack up, we’ve got things to do.’ 

* 

Will stood up in his stirrups, craning his neck.   
‘You can sit down, you know. At your height it wouldn’t make much difference anyway,’ Halt said.   
Will considered saying something about Halt’s height, but decided he valued his life too much. ‘I just want to see Gilan. I haven’t seen him since we were in Celtica.’   
‘We’ll be at the river in maybe ten minutes anyw—’ Halt began.   
‘I see him!’ Will said. He urged Tug into a canter and went off and Halt barely resisted rolling his eyes. ‘Where does he get all that energy?’ he asked Abelard.   
Abelard tossed his head. _At least I have some dignity._  
‘That you do, but being the senior ranger here I think I need to catch up with them, don’t you?’ Halt said. ‘Who knows what that scoundrel’s up to.’   
_Are you referring to Will or Gilan?_  
‘Quiet, you,’ he murmured, and pushed Abelard to a canter to catch up.   
He arrived to see Will and Gilan sitting around a small fire waiting for it to get hot enough to make coffee. Will was talking Gilan’s ear off about his training and situations that had come up in Redmont. Halt dismounted and sat in silence, making eye contact with Gilan. They exchanged smiles in greeting. For a moment Halt forgot his concerns, and by the time Gilan poured out coffee for everyone Halt was feeling quite relaxed.   
‘I don’t even know how the dog got in the tree, but anyway, I got it down in about ten seconds,’ Will was saying. ‘Bit of a silly thing for a ranger to deal with, I felt like, but it felt good helping her, you know?’   
‘Don’t knock it as being just some silly little thing, that woman gave us two loaves of bread in thanks,’ Halt said.   
Gilan raised his eyebrows. ‘Not bad.’   
‘Yeah, till we toasted the last few slices and Halt used up the last of our honey on his slices,’ Will said, and Gilan had the grace to turn his snort into a cough.   
It was only when Gilan was pouring them all second cups of coffee that they got back to business. ‘So, Halt, what’s the mission?’ Gilan said.   
Halt pulled out the mission report and cleared his throat. ‘Yes. In the past couple years a team of bandits has virtually taken over the woods.’   
‘And that requires three rangers?’ Gilan raised an eyebrow.   
‘It does. Two rangers have tried in the past, but this group is good. They move through trees—’   
‘What d’you mean by that?’ Will said.   
‘I mean they move branch to branch, not touching the ground while they go. The Woodlands have old, thick trees, and if you know what you’re doing apparently it’s possible to do that,’ Halt said with resignation. ‘Anyway, the branches they move through are all above our heads. We can’t track them, not easily, and we lose our way trying.’ He looked into Gilan’s eyes. ‘That’s why Crowley wants you for this mission, Gilan. Of all of us, you’re the best at tracking. Will and I will be here to back you up.’   
Gilan nodded. Then he drained his cup and stood. ‘Well, if we’re going to get to the Western Woodlands before tomorrow night we should start going.’ 

* 

Halt lay awake in his tent. It was Gilan’s watch and would be his in a couple hours, but his mind was spinning.   
He could hear Will muttering in his sleep from the next tent. Will usually only did that when he was dreaming of his time in Skandia. Halt’s need to protect him was driving him to wake Will up, but it warred with the knowledge that Will needed rest if he was to take watch later. He tried to tell himself that Will’s voice didn’t indicate distress and so he wouldn’t have to wake him up, but it wasn’t working. After so many months unable to protect Will, unable to comfort him, it was all he wanted to do now.   
There was another thing he had to protect Will from, though, and he hadn’t gotten a chance to talk it over with Gilan yet.   
Halt threw off his blankets and went out. Gilan dind’t turn to look at him – that would have involved looking at the fire and ruining his night vision – but he nodded as Halt sat next to him. ‘It’s not your watch yet.’   
‘Couldn’t sleep,’ Halt said gruffly. ‘Will,’ he added after a moment.   
Gilan looked sympathetic. ‘Is he doing all right?’   
Halt nodded. ‘Good as can be expected.’   
There was a moment of silence; then Gilan cut in as Halt opened his mouth. ‘I’ve been managing it better since I was your apprentice.’   
‘I know. I know. I just…’ He sighed. ‘We’ll be out there another couple weeks, by my estimate.’   
‘If we get this done with quickly, Will will never need to know,’ Gilan said.   
‘Never know what?’   
Now both men turned. Will had emerged from his tent and was looking directly at them.   
Halt looked at Gilan. The tall ranger was quiet, calculating. Halt didn't speak. This wasn’t his story to tell.   
‘Will, you…’ Gilan began, but he trailed off in to silence. His mouth formed a few silent words, but he didn’t continue.   
‘You don’t think I can do this,’ Will said. The dull, flat way he said it tugged at Gilan’s heartstrings.   
‘It’s not that, Will. Take a seat.’   
Will settled himself against a tree. There was another moment of silence as Gilan formulated his thoughts.   
‘There’s something I haven’t told you about me, Will. Something that might scare you. I was hoping this wouldn’t come up for another few years, but…’   
Now Will was looking concerned. He leaned forward, hugging his knees, and looked into Gilan’s pained face.   
‘I’m a werewolf, Will.’ 


	2. In Which Will has a Long Talk With Gilan

_Waning Crescent Moon_

None of them went back to sleep that night. By unspoken agreement, Gilan made coffee and Halt made warm food. Will wrapped himself in his cloak and huddled against a tree. The information kept swirling around in his mind. _Werewolf. Werewolf. Gilan is a werewolf._  
He accepted the bowl of porridge mechanically. Halt had already topped it with honey for him. He took a bite and let it sit in his mouth for a moment. _Gilan is a werewolf._  
Gilan knelt in front of him, a mug of coffee in his hands. His pained expression had changed to one of resigned regret instead and Will felt a pang of sorrow. This was the man who had been Halt’s apprentice before him. This was the man who had become like a brother to him. This was—   
_—a werewolf._  
Will couldn’t suppress his shudder.   
Gilan’s gaze dropped from Will’s face. He put the coffee in front of him and sat a short distance away with his own mug. Halt sat between them.   
There was a long period where none of them spoke and the small sounds of the forest filled the air. Will didn’t look at anyone; he stared into the fire, not caring that he would barely be able to see anything else. His attention was roused first by Halt refilling their coffees, then perked fully when Gilan finally spoke. ‘You can ask me anything, Will. You deserve to know.’   
Will looked up at him. His mind seemed blank for the first time since Gilan had made his pronouncement. He caught sight of Gilan’s oakleaf, glinting in the firelight. ‘Your oakleaf,’ he croaked.   
Gilan’s hand rose and he fiddled with the string. Will squinted at it. It was on a braided leather cord, he realised.   
‘It’s not pure silver,’ Gilan said. ‘It’s my bronze one coated in a thin silver layer. That way, as long as my skin doesn’t actually touch it, I’m okay.’   
Will sipped his coffee. ‘How did it happen?’   
‘I don’t actually remember. Dad says I was a baby when it happened. Hunters were…’   
Will didn’t fault Gilan for going silent. All the Ward children had heard the history of the Hunters. What had started as a loose group of farmers who patrolled their fields on the full moon had become a bloodthirsty militia hellbent on tracking down and killing werewolves. Duncan had dissolved them upon taking the throne twenty years before.   
Gilan cleared his throat. ‘Hunters were chasing a werewolf and he ran onto my father’s estate to escape. He broke into my room to hide out of desperation and attacked me.’   
‘But why?’ Will blurted out. ‘I mean, it – he! – he was just scared of the Hunters, right? Why go after a baby?’   
‘His exact motivations, I’ll never know. But I’ve got a guess.’ He took a long sip of coffee. ‘He was scared. Angry. Hungry from the transformation. He wasn’t fully in control of himself.’ He sipped more of his coffee. ‘They killed him when they found him. Tried to kill me, too, till Dad grabbed me and had them arrested. After that they had an enclosed space with stone walls built for me on the grounds and I stayed there every full moon. Till I became Halt’s apprentice, that is, I was too far away then for it to be practical.’   
Will’s eyes flickered between Gilan and Halt. Gilan smiled. ‘I was lucky. After becoming an apprentice I told Halt about my condition and instead of sending me home he fought for my right to remain a ranger. He took care of me when I was with him.’   
‘He went into the woods every month,’ Halt said. ‘I would stay at the cabin to make sure he didn’t get close to town.’   
Will tried to not dwell on that. It had suddenly occurred to him how many times he’d snuck out of the ward on the full moon and he huddled farther under his cloak as if its protection would stretch through time. ‘So Crowley sent you on this mission because you’re a werewolf.’   
Gilan nodded. ‘My sense of smell is permanently heightened. It’s what makes me so good at tracking. We need for this mission.’   
Will nodded. He sipped his coffee and nodded again. _A werewolf. Gilan is a werewolf._  
Birds were singing overhead now. Halt started cooking again, this time making a basic breakfast. Will went to help him.   
‘Will,’ Halt said in a low voice, ‘if you want to go back to Redmont, I won’t blame you.’   
Will looked back at Gilan, giving the horses oats and water. Was it just his imagination, or was Gilan listening?   
‘No,’ he said. _Gilan is a werewolf._  
 _Gilan taught me how to defend myself._  
 _Gilan is a werewolf._  
 _Gilan looked out for me._  
 _Gilan is a werewolf._   
‘No,’ he repeated. ‘I trust Gilan.’ 

* 

The Western Woodlands started as widely-separated copses of trees, and it was in one of these that they had passed the night. By noon they had reached the Woodlands proper. Halt had a map of the woodlands on the saddle in front of him and was navigating away from the main trail onto narrower ones. Will looked back at the main trail. ‘Halt?’   
‘The main trail doesn’t go through the heart of the woods,’ he explained, not looking up. ‘The centre, though, that’s where the bandits are supposed to be.’   
Will and Gilan exchanged glances. Will had never been told the heart of the woodlands were any different than the rest of it, and from the look of it, Gilan hadn’t known that, either. ‘If you say so,’ Will muttered.   
So far, Will hadn’t seen any sign of the large trees Halt had mentioned, and as they moved through the forest he began to doubt they even existed. Towards evening he was convinced the entire forest was completely ordinary. People could be fooled, after all, the cloaks proved it, people saw what they expected to see and maybe they had been mistaken—  
Will stopped short.   
The trail had been sloping gradually but steadily downwards for a long time. The trees here were taller than the ones in the rest of the forest, but had looked like they were the same height due to differences in elevation. They were much thicker than Will had imagined - Tug, standing broadside against the trunk, could be entirely hidden by it. The branches were thick and interlocking, as thick as most trees, so much so that though the trees themselves were widely spaced, the foliage blocked most of the light coming down. Will estimated that even at high noon the forest floor here would be bathed in permanent semi-darkness.   
Will looked at Halt. ‘I believe you now.’   
Halt smiled grimly and reined in Abelard, rolling up the map.  
Gilan, a peculiar look on his face, was riding up to one of the trees. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply several times. Eyes still closed, he moved Blaze around the trees surrounding them, occasionally pausing. After several minutes he came back. ‘Old scents, mainly. Nothing from the past week. But they’re definitely moving through the trees.’   
‘Can you smell much from this distance?’ Will asked, looking up. The lowest branches were above their heads.   
Gilan nodded. ‘It’s not as strong as it would be if I could get closer to it, but it’s good enough for our purposes.’   
‘Anyway, we know they’re here, at least,’ Halt said. ‘We’ll follow the trails. Maybe we can meet someone who’ll give us more information.’   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I, er, meant to post this a couple days ago. Oops. 
> 
> Something I planned on doing when I first uploaded this is crediting zunnietheweirdo on tumblr for coming up with this headcanon in the first place. Thanks Zunnie! :D


	3. In Which the Bandits Appear

_New Moon_

‘I _tol’_ you we ought to’ve turned back there,’ said John Burrows.   
‘And I’m tellin’ you this is a shortcut. That other road ain’t getting’ us nowhere fast,’ said James Burrows.   
‘We’ve got a lot here, we ain’t going fast anyway!’ John said.   
‘Too right you are,’ came a voice from above, and John and James looked up. A tall, lanky man was perched on a branch above their heads, grinning a grin full of crooked, yellow teeth. As they looked five more appeared. They pulled out knives and some moved lower in the trees.   
‘Leave the cart, and your oxen. Don’t take anything out of the cart, either,’ the bandit said, and the men reluctantly complied, James having to grab John’s hand to stop him grabbing a bag of money. Both of them screamed when one of the knives thudded into the cart near their hands.   
‘Now go,’ said the bandit who had thrown the knife.   
James and John Burrows took to their heels. 

* 

Will was jerked awake before dawn by screams and crashes, undercut by Halt swearing loudly. He grabbed his bow and quiver and stuck his head out of the tent. Two merchants had tripped over Halt’s low tent and were now entangled by it. Halt had managed to extract himself, but was too busy being angry with the merchants to give them any kind of help. Gilan was near the fire where he had been keeping watch, an arrow nocked in his bow. He passed by Will. ‘Will, help those two, would you? I need to make sure whatever had them so scared wasn’t following them.’   
Will nodded and Gilan moved on through the trees. He was going in the direction the merchants had come from, but Will knew he would go from there in a circle around the campsite. He put down his bow and crossed the campsite, pulling the merchants to their feet. ‘Okay, all right, enough of that. Is anyone hurt?’   
The fact that Halt was still swearing told Will he was fine, but he hadn’t expected much of an answer from him anyway. The merchants weren’t inclined to answer Will’s question either.   
‘Y’ain’t gonna curse us, are ya?’   
‘We didn’t mean to crash into ya, swear it!’   
‘We won’t curse you,’ Halt said. His Hibernian accent was more pronounced now, as it tended to be when he was angry or startled. ‘Just tell us why you were running like bats out of hell.’   
‘Bandits!’ one of them said. ‘We was robbed!’   
Halt’s angry expression vanished and he and Will exchanged glances. ‘Will, make these men some coffee.’   
Gilan was back by the time the coffee was done. He shook his head to indicate he hadn’t found anything and took a seat. By now the merchants were calmer and Halt began questioning them.   
‘First off, who are you?’   
One of the merchants puffed out his chest. ‘John and James Burrows, of Burrows and Burrows Goods.’   
‘Tell us everything that happened,’ Halt said.   
‘Well, we was in fiefs on the other end of the wood and making our way around—’   
‘Starting just before you were robbed,’ Halt said.   
John looked put out and James took over the story. ‘We had to start getting back, so I suggested cuttin’ through the middle of the Woodlands. We had a full cart and our oxen ain’t the fastest anyway, so I decided we’d take the most direct route. Then there was this voice, right, and they told us to leave our stuff, right, and one of ‘em threw a knife at us but missed us so maybe they weren’t so great at aim, it just missed our hands. Was weird, they was all sitting in the trees. Anyway, we just ran and we didn’t stop and that’s when we ended up here.’   
‘When was this?’ Gilan asked.   
‘Yesterday, round noon,’ John said.   
Halt gave a look to Gilan and Will. They both nodded and started breaking camp as Halt got exact details on where the attack had taken place.   
They had packed up and were about to leave when John Burrows looked up. ‘Hey – what ‘bout us?’   
‘What about you?’ Halt said.   
‘What ‘bout our stuff? We’ll be outta business without it.’   
‘How much was it worth?’ Halt said.   
John Burrows’ face briefly took on a greedy, calculating look before he caught sight of Halt’s glare and reined himself in. ‘’Bouta hundred crowns,’ he said.   
‘You from Redmont?’   
The men nodded.   
Halt took out a parchment, ink and quill and wrote a short note. He stamped it with a seal and handed it over. ‘Give that to Baron Arald, he’ll reimburse you.’   
The men looked at it. As one they raised their eyebrows and exchanged glances, then broke into smirks.   
‘What is it this time?’ Halt growled.   
‘Nothin’, nothin’,’ James Burrows said. ‘Only you signed this as Halt.’   
‘And?’   
‘Well everyone knows he’s – how tall do they say he is?’ John said.   
‘Two an’ a half metres,’ James said. ‘He won’t like you pretending to be him.’   
‘ _I am Halt!_ ’ he roared.   
‘Oh sure you are, sure you are, my mistake,’ James said, and the men, still smirking, went off in the direction of Redmont, Halt’s glare at their backs.   
Will and Gilan made eye contact and they snickered. Halt turned his glare on them and they turned to their horses. Will glanced at Gilan. The ranger gave him a small smile, which widened when Will returned it. Then, with a gruff word from Halt, they mounted their horses and went in the direction of the attack. ‘Should take us half a day to get to where they were attacked if we go at a trot,’ Halt said, and Will and Gilan nodded.   
They were getting near the attack site when Gilan was overcome by coughing. He pulled his cloak over his mouth and nose and looked into Will and Halt’s concerned faces. ‘Decay,’ he choked out.   
They moved slower now and Will took his bow out and rested it on the pommel of his saddle. A few minutes more and the stench hit them like a wall, the whine of insects reaching their ears.   
They cleared a bend in the path and the source of the stench became apparent. The bandits had killed and butchered the oxen and the entrails had been strewn across the path. Flies were swarming in a thick cloud over the remains, creating a deafening noise. Will slid from his saddle, patted Tug to calm him, and went to investigate.   
The cart had apparently been dismantled, or maybe chopped up - Will saw split fragments of wood littering the ground. He kicked at the debris. Broken pottery, a bent tin mug, and a couple coins were all that remained of the Burrows’ merchandise.   
Will cast about on the ground. There were footprints, several of which were layered over the prints of the merchants. _So the bandits do come down from the trees sometimes_ , he thought. But the tracks all disappeared in the middle of the trail. Will looked again to make sure he wasn’t missing anything, then looked up. Right where the footprints ended was a branch, and on it were the unmistakable signs that a rope had been there.   
‘Halt, I found where the bandits went!’ he said excitedly.   
‘Don’t be so sure about that,’ Halt said. Will went over to him and his face fell. The tree in front of Halt, opposite where Will had been, had signs of ropes on its branches too. They went on a slow walk around the attack site. Almost all of the trees had the same markings.   
Halt looked at Gilan. ‘Gilan, is there any chance you can track down where the bandits went?’   
Gilan shook his head.   
‘What?’ Will blurted out. ‘But it stinks around here! The scents are so obvious!’   
‘No, one scent is obvious,’ Gilan said. His voice was still muffled by his cloak and it sounded like he was breathing through his mouth. ‘The rotting meat is overwhelming everything else. We’d have to ride out to where the smell isn’t so bad, then go in a circle around the attack site to figure it out.’   
Halt sighed and rubbed his eyes with one hand. ‘Better get started, then.’ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I, er, had a bit too much fun writing some parts of this chapter. Particularly when Halt had to deal with the merchants :"D 
> 
> Also, a pre-warning: the next chapter will have some violence and a character getting injured. I don't think I got too graphic, but chapter 4 and 5 will deal with that injury.


	4. In Which the Bandits Discover the Rangers are After Them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains a fight in which a character gets injured. I wasn't very graphic in this chapter, but that might change in the next one. Please proceed with caution if you think that might trigger you. 
> 
> Now updated with a line that was missing from the original :"D Oops

_Waxing Crescent Moon_

Travis was crouching on a branch, his cloak wrapped tightly around him. a thick layer of foliage hid him form the rangers below.   
‘You been watching them three days now. They’ll fail like the others and we’ll go back to normal. Now help me with this will you?’ said his companion Jonin, wrestling with a bundle of wood.’   
‘They sent Halt,’ Travis said.’   
‘No they didn—’ Jonin cut off abruptly when he went to look. He frowned. ‘Help me get the stuff back or Randall will have our hides. We can tell him there.’ 

* 

  
Gilan sighed in exasperation and rubbed his face with his hand. Halt nosed Abelard alongside Blaze. ‘What is it?’   
‘The bandits travel a lot in this area. Figuring out an exact direction they went in is impossible. If I was up in the trees closer to the scents then maybe, but…'   
‘I have an idea,’ Will said. They looked back at him. ‘I could climb up and—’   
‘No,’ Halt said firmly.   
‘I’m good at climbing, and if I’m quick they won’t see me!’   
‘You’ll be unprotected. If you come face to face with a bandit you’re dead, and then what? Have some damn sense,’ Halt snapped.   
‘I’m sorry,’ Will said softly. ‘I just – we’ve been trying to find them for days and—’   
‘I know,’ Halt murmured.   
‘You know, this would be easier if I could concentrate,’ Gilan said testily. Will and Halt fell silent.   
The gentlest of breezes ruffled their hair. Gilan closed his eyes, turned his head, and went off to the west, Will and Halt following. 

* 

Jonin went to put away the bundle of wood, but Travis went straight to Randall and knelt in front of him. ‘Sir, they sent Halt,’ he said straight away.   
Randall frowned. ‘Halt? The Hibernian, Pritchard’s old apprentice?’   
At Travis’ nod Randall’s frown deepened. ‘I thought I’d seen the last of him during the war. Who else is with him?’   
‘Two rangers I don’t recognise. One of them’s an apprentice.’   
‘If that one’s trained by Halt he’ll be good,’ Randall said.   
‘Who cares?’ Brian said. He was new, someone they had trained themselves, and sometimes Randall regretted it. ‘Kill ‘em and move on.’   
‘Halt isn’t an ordinary ranger,’ Randall said. ‘He’s got good reflexes and good aim. If we throw a knife at one we’d have two arrows in us in a heartbeat.’   
‘Then have three of us throw knives at the same time,’ Brian said.   
‘That would disturb the leaves, and every one there would have an arrow in them before they throw their knives,’ Randall said. ‘No, an attack on them would have to be planned carefully, and for close range. Rangers are trained for ranged attacks, they’re taught to run from close combat.’   
Randall was quiet for a long time; then he stood. ‘Let’s go. All of us. Take food and a waterskin each. Here’s where we’ll go…’ 

* 

‘You’re sure?’ Halt said.   
Gilan nodded. His face was still pointed up towards the tangle of branches over the clearing in front of them. ‘This is the strongest concentration of scents. This is their base, I’m sure of it.’   
Will looked up. It was a dense, nearly impenetrable mass of branches above a huge clearing. No sounds were coming from it. He looked at Halt. ‘Halt, let me look up there.’   
Halt was about to protest, but Will cut him off. ‘Just a glance. If they’re there, we can make a plan to catch them. We can’t just give up this chance, Halt.’   
Halt fought a war within himself. He took a long, hard look at Will. His face was still round and boyish, but was starting to lengthen. With a jolt Halt realised Will was nearly seventeen now. He was as old as Halt had been when he reached Araluen and became a ranger. Part of him was still trying to say this was different, but it wasn’t, not really.   
‘Okay. But just a quick look.’   
Will took his bow and quiver and hung them on Tug’s saddle. He pulled his hood over his head and looked at the trees around them. He slid through the forest to a tree that had enough low branches to climb easily.   
A lifetime of practice at Redmont came back to Will in an instant. He crept up through shadows, moving when breezes shifted foliage to cover the sights and sounds of his movements. Just before reaching the top, he paused and listened.   
Will had learned as a child that small sounds were good. Small sounds – the sounds of birds and insects, usually – meant everything was okay. The small animals tended to go silent around people.   
Above, from the bandits’ hideout, Will heard only the small sounds.   
He listened for a long time. The small sounds didn’t fade. Will peeked his head over the level of the hideout.   
From below, the hideout was several interlocking branches; from above, a thin layer of wood had been put in the places between the branches. A large iron bowl filled with ash and burnt firewood was in the centre. Piles of rags, six in total, were dotted around the edges. Thick ropes crossed over the hideout and beyond, following the paths of branches. Shorter ropes with baskets hung from these. Will went to one and looked inside. Spices and dried food were in the basket. He moved it experimentally; it slid back and forth on the rope overhead. _This is how they move everything_ , he realised.   
Will spent time examining the branches in all directions, then climbed down. Halt and Gilan went to him and to Will’s surprise Halt put his hand on his shoulder. ‘How is it?’   
Will told them what he’d seen. ‘And, Halt, Gilan, they all left the base, recently. We can track them down, they all went in different directions, we can take them out one at a time—’   
Halt and Gilan exchanged glances.   
‘Okay,’ Halt said.   
They went through their saddlebags for anything they might need. Will, packing next to Halt, saw something wrapped in canvas next to his quiver. ‘Halt? What’s that?’   
Halt didn’t answer, instead picking up the canvas and attaching it to his belt. The canvas momentarily showed the shape of the object inside and Will realised there was an arrow in it. The bottom dropped out of his stomach. ‘Halt, is that – silver?’   
‘Gilan told me to use it,’ he said quietly. He won’t get near us with our silver oakleaves, but you…’   
Will grabbed his arm. You don’t think he would – do you?’   
Halt turned away, looking grim. ‘On the full moon, he might.’ 

* 

‘Let’s go this way,’ Gilan said.   
‘Any particular reason?’ Halt said dryly.   
‘This one’s sick. Smells like a lung infection. We’d have the advantage,’ Gilan said.   
‘This guy was walking with a limp,’ Halt said, gesturing with his head. ‘We’d still have the advantage.’   
‘My guy wouldn’t have got that far,’ Gilan said.   
‘Neither would mine,’ Halt said.   
Gilan sighed in frustration. ‘There’s – there’s no sign that’s a recent injury,’ he said, pointing at the marks left by the limping bandit. ‘No smell of blood – or sign of it, either, look where he scraped against the tree here. If it’s an old injury, he’s good at moving around up here. We might not have an advantage.’   
Halt appraised Gilan for a moment, then he grinned. ‘Good.’   
‘Huh?’ Gilan and Will said in unison.   
Halt patted Gilan’s shoulder. ‘Rangers get used to working alone. We need to be able to justify ourselves.’   
‘Halt, I’m not your apprentice anymore,’ Gilan grumbled.   
‘Once my apprentice, always my apprentice,’ Halt said. He went down the path Gilan had chosen. Will and Gilan locked eyes; then the both shrugged and followed Halt.   
They were going slow - Halt and Gilan weren’t as practiced as Will at walking across narrow passages and had to go more slowly to avoid giving themselves away. Will, quickly growing bored with their lack of progress, spent the time studying their route, and as such he was the first to notice the problem. ‘We’re going in a circle.’   
Halt stopped and frowned. They were near the edge of the clearing now, where the branches were still heavily interlocked but left plenty of space between them. Gilan lifted his head and sniffed the air. ‘I’m smelling the other bandits, too. They’re converging again.’   
Will put it together first. ‘Grab the rope!’   
Halt and Gilan grabbed it. Will took out his saxe knife and slashed the rope. As Halt and Gilan fell, the bandits burst from hiding spots behind leaves, knives raised. Will jumped from branch to branch, kicking off one to land on another. Below him, Gilan and Halt were on the ground and already readying their bows. A knife whizzed passed Will’s ear; another moment and the bandit that threw it fell to the ground, killed by an arrow from Halt.   
He was nearly at the ground now. Three more metres—   
There was a sharp, hot pain in his side and Will plummeted. 

* 

Will seemed to fall in slow motion, the knife having opened up a gash in his side. Halt grabbed another arrow and shot at the bandit who had thrown it. As the bandit fell another one threw a knife aimed at Will. In one fluid motion Gilan aimed and fired an arrow – it collided with the knife and both skittered off course.   
Halt pulled back another arrow. ‘Get Will out of here!’   
Gilan hauled Will onto Blaze and jumped on behind him. ‘Tug!’ The white horse neighed and followed Blaze, the horses bounding nimbly through the trees. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will deal more with Will's injury, as well as his addiction and trauma. Once again, if that's triggering please proceed with caution. I tend to not get too graphic but it's possible I might cross a line for someone.


	5. In Which Will Deals with his Trauma from Skandia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly sorry for taking so long with this one ; ; 
> 
> This was quite hard to write because I wanted to write Will's trauma and recovery as accurately as I could, but I pulled back from adding too much detail. Nevertheless I will add a TRIGGER WARNING here, as this chapter describes Will's injury, mentions his trauma, and mentions his addiction. Please be forewarned.

_Waxing Crescent Moon_

Gilan thought grimly that his curse was almost a blessing at the moment. He used his nose to avoid places the bandits had been recently, directing Blaze almost unconsciously, Tug following obediently behind. He only reined in when he hit an area that was scent-free, and moved forward cautiously.   
It became immediately apparent why the bandits avoided the area. One of the massive trees had come down, pulling down branches from two others with it. Gilan slid off Blaze’s back and patted his neck, then brought Will down and sat him up against the moss-covered tree trunk to examine him.   
Will was pale from blood loss and his breathing was ragged. Gilan removed Will’s cloak and cut away his shirt gently. The gash in his side was jagged, but not deep. He tore strips from Will’s shirt and pressed them against the wound, then tied them in place with a strip from the roll of bandages in his kit. The immediate problem taken care of, he checked Will for other injuries.   
He saw bruises forming around Will’s collarbone and Gilan guessed it was probably broken. Will’s hiss of pain when Gilan raised his arm over his head confirmed it. ‘Sorry, Will,’ he murmured gently. He tore off another strip from Will’s shirt and made a basic sling for him.   
His injuries dealt with, Gilan turned to the horses. Blaze was more tired than Tug, having carried two riders, and Gilan gave him a thorough check for injuries before rubbing them both down and giving them warm mash. He finished by taking off their saddles and putting their blankets on them, then went back to check on Will.   
The bleeding had slowed now. Gilan opened up a bottle of salve to spread over it.   
A distinctive smell hit Will’s nose. 

* 

Halt was nearly at the camp when he heard Will scream. He pushed Abelard into a canter, burst out of the trees into the camp and saw Gilan holding Will down as he lay thrashing wildly. Halt reined Abelard in sharply, jumped down and rushed to Will. ‘What happened?!’   
‘I tried to put salve on his injuries.’ Gilan’s face was wracked with guilt. ‘Warmweed. Halt, I’m sorry, I didn’t think he’d react this way—’   
‘Never mind that now. Put that away and see if there’s anything else we have.’ Halt pinned Will’s arms to his sides with a vice-like grip and looked into Will’s eyes. ‘Will, relax. We’re not giving you warmweed.’   
Will had a wild look in his eyes, but when Halt spoke there was a degree of recognition there. Halt tried again. ‘No warmweed. You’re okay, Will, we’re here.’   
Will stopped thrashing and burst into tears. His face was twisted in pain and he shook with fear and guilt.   
‘His arm came out of his sling,’ Gilan murmured, coming over. ‘He broke his collarbone here, look.’ He put Will’s arm back in the sling and looped the material around it a few times to secure it in place before tying it around his neck again.   
Halt stood and grabbed his tent. Gilan took down his and Will’s as well. The tents could be combined easily enough to create a larger shelter, and both of them knew they wouldn’t be leaving Will alone tonight.   
‘There’s nothing else,’ Gilan said softly. ‘The warmweed’s all we have. I could take Blaze, ride into town—’   
‘No. Will needs both of us here – one of us to be with him, one of us to guard camp.’ Halt sighed. ‘But unless we can get Will to accept the warmweed, we’ll be here a long time.’   
They set up the tents while Gilan detailed Will’s injuries to Halt. Halt was relieved to hear Will was okay – relatively – but though his face was blank his heart felt like it was trapped in a vice. He had allowed this to happen. As the senior ranger he should have been more alert, more aware of what was happening.   
_I couldn’t protect my son._  
He wasn’t sure where _son_ had come from. After all, he was only Will’s –   
_– father._  
_No_ , he told himself, _that was Daniel, he saved my life_. But the thought didn’t leave his mind. 

* 

Will was still crying when Halt came in. He sat up and looked at him – his mentor’s face was blurred by his tears, making it impossible to read his expression, but there was a stiffness in how Halt carried himself that made Will, already fragile, unreasonably scared. ‘Halt,’ he croaked.   
‘You should be lying down,’ Halt said gruffly. He had brought Will’s bed roll in and laid it out. Will shuffled over to them, pain shooting through his side as he did so, but to his surprise Halt lifted him bodily and laid him on his bedroll with a tenderness Will had never known. At once he was overcome with sobs again.   
Halt wanted more than anything to hug Will close in that moment, but couldn’t risk putting him in more pain. He put his hand on Will’s head and he leaned into the touch, still crying.   
‘Will,’ Halt said softly, then stopped, unsure of how to say what needed to be said. ‘Will, we – we have to use the warmweed. ‘  
Will wailed and Halt grabbed his uninjured shoulder. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘but we don’t have anything else and it’s our only chance of healing you before the full moon.’   
Will trembled and looked at Halt with tears in his eyes. ‘I can’t,’ he whispered. ‘I’m not strong enough.’   
‘You are,’ Halt said. ‘You overcame it once, you can do it again.’   
Will closed his eyes. For a long time he lay quivering under Halt’s touch.   
‘You’ll be here?’   
‘I’ll be here.’   
Another long silence. Then—   
‘Okay.’ 

* 

Will’s breathing quickened as soon as Gilan unstoppered the bottle. Halt put his hand on his uninjured shoulder and Will reached up to grip it so tightly his knuckles went white. As Gilan unwrapped Will’s wound and rubbed the salve into it Will turned his face away and squeezed his eyes shut.   
Gilan forced himself to work slowly; much as he wanted to avoid distressing Will, the last thing he wanted to do was extend the amount of time it would take Will to heal. Nevertheless the way Will’s body shuddered with sobs every time he rubbed in more salve was almost too much to bear and Gilan was glad when he was finally done and could dress Will’s wound again.   
‘It’s done,’ Gilan said. ‘That’s it, Will.’   
Will’s entire body seemed to sag; then a few moments later, his body overcome by shock and pain, he fell into a restless sleep.   
Satisfied he was okay the rangers slipped out of the tent. Halt went to Abelard and rubbed his nose. He had taken care of the horse before they tried using warmweed on Will again, but he still felt a twinge of guilt, like he should have done more. That was ridiculous, of course – Will had needed attending to – but the general feeling of unease that had settled over Halt wasn’t going away. He distracted himself by checking Abelard’s legs thoroughly for injuries while Gilan went through Blaze’s saddlebags. There was silence for several long moments.   
‘So,’ Gilan said after a while. ‘The bandits. What did you do with them?’   
Halt was glad Gilan couldn’t see his face. ‘Shot one of them.’   
‘You didn’t go after any of the others?’   
Halt stood to examine Abelard’s head and neck. ‘Will needed me more.’   
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Gilan put down the saddlebag and approach him, and Halt turned so they were facing each other. Gilan’s face was blank, and as a result it came as a shock to Halt when the younger man pulled back his fist and punched Halt square in the jaw with enough force to send him staggering back.   
‘ _What is wrong with you?!_ ’ Gilan crossed the distance between them easily with a long stride and drew back his fist again. ‘We could have ended this right here, you can shoot fast enough! If you had at least injured them all I could have caught up to the rest and taken care of them!’   
Gilan could have – would have – punched Halt a second time, but was shocked to see the shame on Halt’s face. He dropped his fist and gaped for a moment. ‘Halt—’   
‘It’s not about you. I trust you with him—’ Halt began.   
‘I know.’ Gilan stepped back. Halt looked away, rubbing his jaw.   
‘You – don’t you think something needs to be done about this?’ When Halt stayed quiet, he went on. ‘This is the second time you’ve abandoned your duties for him. I care about him too, Halt, but Crowley might reassign him if you don’t take a step back every now and again. When Will took the oakleaf he knew it would come with risks. He has to be able to take them.’   
Halt let all this wash over him in silence. He knew it all, of course, and agreed with it, but he hated it. And himself, for failing Will twice. And the bandits, of course, for injuring Will in the first place.   
The bandits. His mind kept going back to them. He had a nagging feeling there was something he was forgetting. 

* 

_‘Get back to work, you filthy leech!’_  
 _Will barely registered the whip crack. His whole body was numb and his mind wasn’t much better. He adjusted his grip and turned the wheel faster. The only time he felt anything anymore was when—_  
 _‘Your warmweed,’ a junior slavemaster said, shoving the herbs into Will’s hand. Soothing warmth spread from his head to his toes._

* 

When Halt shook Will awake, he was drenched in cold sweat and shivering. Halt checked his forehead. ‘No fever,’ he murmured. His gaze flickered to Will’s injury.   
‘S-Sometimes I wake up cold when I have those…dreams,’ Will admitted.   
Halt put his hand on Will’s shoulder again and again Will’s hand slid up to grab it.   
Will had spent the time since his injury alternating between deep, dreamless sleep and quiet, haze-like stupor. It was a way to protect himself, Halt knew. His brain retreated into itself, keeping bad thoughts out of his head by keeping all thoughts out of his head. This was the first actual sentence he had said in a long time, and the first dream he had had in the same amount of time.   
Halt’s closeness seemed to calm Will down. After a few minutes he’d stopped shaking and his breathing was more even. Halt thought he’d fallen back asleep until Will spoke again.   
‘I hear them sometimes. The Skandians. When it…when it gets cold. Or when I can smell warmweed.’   
Halt had a sudden, unsettling memory of fleeing Hibernia and seeing Ferris’ face in shadowy places. He adjusted his hand so he could hold Will’s. What had he done back then? Ah yes.   
‘When I was about your age…’ Halt paused. He didn’t want Will to know about that part of his life – it was dead and buried now. ‘Or a bit older. After my battle with…Morgarath. I had similar problems. I’d see his face in shadows, see him moving between trees.’   
After a few moments Will said, ‘What did you do?’   
‘I’d close my eyes and count backwards from one hundred. Then I’d name five smells, five things of any given colour. It calmed me down, reminded me of where I was. And I talked to Pauline a lot. Couriers are trained to help with problems.’ What else? ‘I wrote down what I was feeling and burned it afterwards. It felt like I was getting rid of it that way.’   
It was some time before Will’s next question. ‘How long did it take?’   
‘Years. There’s no quick fixes in life, especially for something big like this. But that’s no reason to not try.’   
Will closed his eyes. His lips were moving softly and Halt could just make out what he was saying. ‘ _One hundred. Ninety-nine. Ninety-eight_.’   
He fell asleep when he got to sixty-seven. 

* 

Halt wasn’t sure if it was Will’s age or the warmweed, but he was sitting outside just a couple days later. The wound in his side had closed, but wasn’t yet healed. Halt looked over him and applied another layer of warmweed salve to his wound. Instantly Will started muttering. ‘ _White berries near the bush. White stone by the tree. Tug. White ash in the fire_.’   
Halt sat back as Gilan handed out food and Will ate awkwardly with his non-dominant hand. Halt ate slowly before putting his bowl to the side. ‘Will, Gilan, there’s something about the bandits you need to know.’   
They looked up and Halt sighed. ‘I thought I recognised them. I was right. They’re former rangers.’   
Gilan frowned and Will’s eyes widened. ‘What?’ Will said. ‘Why? When did they become bandits? Why doesn’t Crowley know? What about Duncan?’   
Halt held up his hand. ‘These rangers were loyal to Morgarath. Back then the corps could be divided into three groups – those who were loyal and competent, those who were incompetent and corrupt, and those who were corrupt and competent. These were the latter. They were banished after the war, but it looks like some of them didn’t leave Araluen.’   
‘That explains a lot,’ Gilan said. ‘How they can evade us so well. Their aim.’   
‘And it means this is an even bigger problem than we thought. They aren’t just bandits, they’re traitors, and we need to get them to Duncan to face trial.’   
The breeze shifted towards them and Gilan looked at a spot over Halt’s shoulder. ‘ _Down!_ ’   
Halt flattened himself and Gilan pushed Will to the ground as basic arrows – barely more than sharpened sticks – whizzed over their heads. 


	6. In Which Our Heroes Plan Fails

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? It's been nearly a year since the last update? Shhhhh >_<
> 
> I would like to thank my brain for finally getting its act together to let me write this and the awesome leanmeanaquamarine who beta read and helped me figure out a major event in this chapter :D

_Waxing Gibbous Moon_

Halt grabbed his throwing knife, turned, and threw it in one fluid motion. It embedded itself in the chest of a bandit on the edge of the clearing and he fell backwards off the branch. With a quick glance, Halt took in all the information he needed: three bandits now remained, and they had made rough bows that wouldn’t do well over distances, but at this close range a lucky shot could still be deadly.   
And from ex-rangers, there would be a lot of lucky shots.   
Gilan had saved them, but they were still in trouble. The bandits had lost the element of surprise, but with Will injured they were still outnumbered.   
Halt reached for his bow, but had to dodge when a bandit shot another arrow at him. By some stroke of luck it snagged on his cloak and hung uselessly from the fabric; then the bandit jumped out of the tree and landed in front of him. Halt frowned and squinted. He didn’t recognise the man at first, what with the dim light of early morning and the bandit standing in front of the fire, but after a moment it dawned on him: it was Randall, who would have been Morgarath’s favourite as ranger commandant if the coup had succeeded.   
Duncan would probably want Randall alive.   
Randall had his saxe knife in hand, now rusted and chipped but still potentially deadly. Halt drew his own and eyed Randall, calculating. They circled each other warily. Halt risked a glance at Will and Gilan. Gilan had his sword drawn and was keeping the remaining two bandits at bay. They both carried heavy staffs that could do quite a bit of damage if Gilan’s attention lapsed for even a moment. He was the only thing standing between Will and death.   
Randall made a feint to Halt’s left and Halt jerked away. Randall quickly reversed and jabbed at Halt with the butt of his knife, catching him over his eye and making him see stars. Halt cursed himself. Crown princes in Hibernia weren’t taught how to fight, leaving Halt with almost no close combat experience except for what little he had gained through ranger training. Clearly Randall had studied it more than he had.   
Randall smirked. ‘Pritchard clearly didn’t teach you how to use a knife very well.’   
Halt recognised this for the ploy it was and didn’t respond. He swiped at Randall, his knife opening up a gash on Randall’s hand, and he hoped this would make Randall drop his knife, but to his surprise Randall tossed the saxe to his other hand and slashed at Halt, forcing Halt to block him with his knife. Randall laughed. ‘Oh, you didn’t know, Hibernian? I’m equally skilled with both hands.’ He kicked at Halt’s shin and Halt stumbled back, falling over one of the logs they had gathered for the fire. He managed to hold on to his saxe knife, but Randall was already drawing back his own knife to throw it down, and at this range he couldn’t possibly miss—   
A stone hit Randall in the temple with enough force to drop him, and he fell back into the fire. Halt launched himself over and yanked Randall off, grabbing a pot filled with water and dousing the fire that now singed Randall’s clothes. Randall was stunned from the stone hitting him and Halt took the opportunity to grab some spare rope for the tents and tying his hands behind his back. Without taking the time to catch his breath Halt turned and ran to Gilan, joining the fight. One of the bandits surrendered immediately, and the other only fought a few more moments before dropping his saxe knife and holding his hands up. Gilan kept his sword on them as Halt got out their thumb cuffs. He considered restraining Randall this way as well, but Randall was the most valuable hostage and he decided to keep him restrained as he was.   
Only once the remaining bandits were restrained did it occur to Halt to wonder where the rock had come from, and he looked at Will.   
Will was pale, and he was holding his injured collarbone. Halt hurried over. ‘I’m fine,’ Will gasped. ‘Just – wrenched it when I threw the rock.’   
Halt knelt next to him and stroked his hair. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘That was well-timed.’   
Will grinned at him, then his face turned serious. ‘Halt, we have to go, right? We need to get them out of here.’   
Halt nodded, standing. ‘Gilan, help me pack up. There are farms out there, if we can get to one…’   
Gilan nodded and started packing. Halt looked back at Will. ‘Can you ride?’   
Will glanced at the bandits. ‘I can manage. I don’t want either of them knowing Tug’s password.’   
Halt nodded. ‘You’ll take the shorter one. He’s been injured, he’ll be easier to handle.’   
Will nodded and went through their packs, gathering as much of their travel food as he could carry in one hand and delivering it to Halt and Gilan. They ate while packing, putting things away with more consideration to speed than neatness, and every few moments Halt looked up at the sky.   
This was perhaps the only place in the wood where the sky could be seen clearly, but it was covered in clouds so thick it only watery sunlight filtered down and it was impossible for Halt to tell the time of day. Surely it had to still be morning? With the infamous speed and stamina of ranger horses, they could make it to a farm by the next day to spend the night provided they left early enough – after all, they wouldn’t have to track anyone this time. But it was later in the month than he would have liked, and even if it was morning they would be cutting it close…   
What phase of the moon was it? Did they have one day left, or two? It was difficult to keep track of the days in the Wood.

*

Randall’s hands were tied behind him and a rope around his ankle was tied to Abelard’s saddle. He was cursing steadily behind Halt and occasionally squirming, but Halt was tuning him out. They had followed Gilan to the main trail and were now riding in a loose group alternating between cantering and walking. For all that the trail had to dodge between large trees, it went in a fairly straight line, and now that they weren’t actively tracking the bandits they were making good time – at least, Halt thought they were. It was hard to tell without being able to see the sun.  
They were out of the most dense part of the wood by the time evening fell – or at least, by the time the level of light had gone down once again, by which point they were all getting tired. They stopped in an area with widely-spaced trees, where their prisoners wouldn’t be able to escape through the tree tops if they managed to get away, and the rangers slid off their horses. Gilan helped his prisoner off, tied him by his wrists to a tree, and went to Tug to help Will with his own prisoner. Will stepped back to let him through.   
As soon as Will stepped back the prisoner scooted forward and booted Tug in the stomach. Instead of galloping off, Tug snorted, tossed his head, and kicked, hurling the bandit off and over his head. The bandit had enough sense to tuck in his head, preventing a broken neck, but he landed heavily and lay stunned for several moments. Before he could move Gilan, suppressing a smirk, grabbed him and tied him to a different tree.   
‘You damn idiot, I told you you can’t ride ranger horses!’ Randall spat.   
Halt eyed him. ‘He’s not a former ranger?’   
‘No. Some idiot kid we picked up and trained later. And I regret it more every day.’ He glared at the bandit, who was red-faced and refusing to look at any of them.   
Halt shook his head and took out some warmweed salve. He went off with Will to give him privacy, leaving Gilan to guard their prisoners. 

*

The clouds persisted the next day, with the result that Halt wasn’t sure how early he woke up the next morning. Gilan, who had taken the last watch, was pacing around their small site, fiddling with a small stone he had picked up. Occasionally he tossed it from hand to hand, sometimes he turned it over in his fingers, and once or twice he gripped it in a fist so tight his knuckled whitened.   
It was a chilling sight that was more effective than coffee at instantly waking Halt. He went straight to his former apprentice and touched his shoulder.   
‘ _What_?’ Gilan snapped, rounding on him.   
Halt tightened his grip and looked into his eyes. ‘Tonight?’   
Gilan looked down and took a deep breath. ‘…Tonight.’   
Halt turned. ‘Will, wake up! We’re leaving in ten minutes.’   
Will awoke with a start and crawled out of his tent, looking at Halt. He opened his mouth to speak, saw the seriousness on Halt’s face, and closed his mouth. They had a quick breakfast of cold travel food, not even taking time to have coffee, fed the prisoners while they themselves were eating, and set off, this time moving as fast as they could without overly straining the horses.   
After several hours of riding the trees went from thinning, to loosely-spaced, to isolated copses. Halt was disheartened to see it was not much brighter on the plains than it had been in the forest – it must be later in the day than he thought.   
They reined in after breaking away from the last of the trees and looked along the horizon. Will, with his young eyes, was the first to spot it. ‘There – that smudge on the horizon. That’s gotta be a farm.’   
‘Looks like it,’ Gilan said.   
Halt nodded. He couldn’t make out the smudge they both saw. _Someone needs to come up with some way to improve eyesight._  
Gilan set off first, and Will and Halt followed him. This time, by unspoken agreement, they set their horses to canter. If they could get to the farm, get settled, lock their prisoners up…   
Halt could see it now, that dark smudge on the horizon that was rowing increasingly larger. But no…there was a flickering of red and orange there too…   
‘It’s on fire!’ Gilan said, slowing Blaze down. Halt and Will slowed as well. It was obvious that it was burning now, and Halt could make out a group of small figures – children, he realised – with a group of cows some distance off. Three people, most likely parents and an older child, were moving around with buckets, but they were wetting the ground around the burning structure – they must have given up on saving the house and were now just trying to stop it from spreading.   
‘Should we help them?’ Will asked hesitantly.   
‘We don’t have time,’ Halt said bitterly. ‘We need to try and find another place to stay.’   
They turned and cantered off, but out here the farms were widely-spaced and it took time to get to the next one. Instantly and without consulting they dismissed it as an option; it was old, small, and based on the number of people working outside it it would have no room for them. There was another one in the distance, and the fastest way to it was to go through a copse of trees near the very edge of the forest. They made their way to it under a rapidly darkening sky. The fine details of the landscape were soon lost in the dimness of evening, then night.   
They were almost at the trees when the clouds parted. From the corner of his eye Halt saw Will look up in despair.   
Behind them, Gilan slid sideways off Blaze. 


	7. In Which Our Adventure Ends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many many many thanks to aleanmeanaquamarine for beta reading <3 
> 
> And as it was Zunnie who originally came up with the headcanon that this whole thing was based off of, all I can say is: I hope you like how it ends <333

_Full Moon_

Will wanted to stop, wanted to turn Tug around, but as if Halt knew what he was thinking the older Ranger reached out and grabbed Tug’s reins, forcing Will to stay at his side. Blaze, apparently trained for this, ran with them, not bucking off the prisoner that still sat on his back. As soon as they were in the trees Halt dismounted and turned to his saddlebags. Automatically Will jumped down and ran back out towards the moving figure he knew had to be Gilan, ignoring Halt’s yell.   
Will stopped a short distance away. Gilan flung his cloak away and it fluttered to the grass. A moment later something hard bounced off Will’s boot and he picked it up – it was Gilan’s oakleaf, the leather string it was on snapped clean through. Gilan must have torn it off, and Will shuddered to think of how much strength that must have taken.   
He raised his eyes and looked at the creature that had once been his friend, his brother.   
Perhaps if Will had only seen a drawing of it, he would have thought it was a wolf, albeit a poorly drawn one. As it was the thing in front of him could only be called “wolf” because nothing else fit. As large as a grizzly bear, with a barrel chest and stout, thick limbs, the werewolf had long, pointed ears, a short muzzle, and yellowed fangs that dripped with saliva. A thick, shaggy tail whipped back and forth behind it. Perhaps most disturbing were the werewolf’s paws, for they weren’t those of a wolf – the fingers and toes were long, and the front paws had a very distinct thumb, and all of them had prominent claws.   
This was a creature that could grab things.   
The growl started low in the werewolf’s throat, then became a rumble that vibrated through the soles of Will’s boots until his whole body shook with them. 

* 

As soon as Halt realised what Will was doing he yelled at him to stop, but the boy just kept running. He saw Gilan’s transformation and saw him tower over Will. A part of his mind noted that he had never seen this before: he knew what Gilan was, but always only saw him as human, even when he was using his inhuman skills. The werewolf was crouched low to the ground as if ready to spring.   
Behind him, the prisoners screamed in fear. Halt rounded on them. ‘Silence!’   
They listened. Randall, Halt was surprised to see, was paralysed with fear.   
‘All of you stay where you are – not that you have much choice,’ Halt said. ‘If I can’t protect you here, we’ll leave – the horses can run faster than he can.’   
This didn’t seem to reassure the bandits. Halt reached into his quiver and pulled out the silver arrow, fitting it to his bow, and leaned against a tree. He took a deep breath, then stepped out from behind it and drew the arrow back.   
For the first time in his life, Halt hesitated to shoot. Two thoughts occupied his mind. One was that Gilan meant almost as much to him as Will, and that thought made the arrow weigh heavily in his hands.   
The other was that Gilan, despite being primed to attack, was doing nothing. 

* 

_Hunger_. The tail flicked from side to side. It was not the wag of a happy dog, but a stiff, jerking motion meant to release the pent-up frustration of the transformation. His mind was clouded by a mist of intense emotion. _Anger. Hunger. Pain._   
A human stood in front of him. A snap of his jaws and the human would be merely meat instead.   
He had never had a human with him before. He ate goat, or sheep, or deer, and once a cow. These were provided for him when he was in the pen, and when he was in the woods he hunted them. Humans were new. He was used to their smell, used to being surrounded by it, but had never had a human with him in the flesh like this.   
The stink of terror rolled off the human, almost enough to overwhelm its scent.   
Almost.   
That was a familiar scent, and a familiar figure. He recognised this figure. He associated it with campfires, and warmth, and laughter.   
_Hunger_.   
The drive to eat urged him onwards. He took a step towards the human. 

* 

Will’s brain was screaming at him to run.   
What had he been thinking, running up to a werewolf on the full moon? If he had stayed in the trees with Halt, the creature would have left to the forest to find something to hunt.   
The creature took a step towards Will. It was still growling, and every line in its body was still tense.   
Will looked up into the creatures eyes, expecting the yellow eyes of a wolf, and let out a soft gasp.   
They were _Gilan’s_ eyes.   
They were the same colour, clouded now by the pain of transformation and wild with anger, but behind them was the man Will thought of as something like a brother.   
Now Will took a step forward to the werewolf. 

* 

The human made a noise. The noise resonated with meaning, but he couldn’t say exactly why.   
The human said the noise again. It was followed by more noises, but they were lost in the sea of emotion that dominated his being.   


*

‘Gilan,’ Will said in a soft voice. It was the third time he’d repeated it while maintaining eye contact. Those eyes flickered whenever Will said it, but only that name for now. When he had tried to say more, the eyes didn’t respond.   
‘Gilan.’ He took a step forward again. Now he was so close that if anything happened, Halt’s arrow wouldn’t get there in time.   
‘Gilan. It’s me. It’s Will.’   
The flicker in those eyes turned into a spark. 

* 

_Will_. As soon as he heard it he knew it belonged to the human in front of him. The mist that filled his mind was lifting now, and thought was becoming easier. Something was fighting from inside himself. The human stepped closer and reached out with his hand, and he snapped his jaws. 

* 

Will almost pulled his hand away. Those teeth had been so close he felt the air move as they closed.   
Gilan was fighting, he knew. Everything was so clear to Will now. He remembered how the warmweed had dulled his mind until he had only his base instincts left, but little drive to act on them. He remembered that war within himself, just trying to exist once more. Now he saw the same fight happening in Gilan.   
Would his life have been different if he hadn’t been locked away with only his pain and anger for company? If he had human connection and companionship, would he be no more dangerous than a dog every month?   
Moving slowly, Will pressed his hand gently against the fur between Gilan’s eyes. Gilan fixed him with a deep gaze that seemed to penetrate to the very depths of Will’s soul.   
The growl, so constant that Will had forgotten it, stopped.   
Then Gilan jerked his head away, took two steps back, and launched himself right over Will and barrelled in the direction of the trees. 

* 

Halt ran to Will. His apprentice had fallen to his knees and Halt was scared something had happened to him. When he skidded to his knees next to him, dropping his weapons, and pulled Will’s face around to see him. ‘Will?!’   
Will was shaking, there were tears in his eyes, but he smiled. ‘I’m okay,’ he said, his voice weak. ‘I’m fine. Halt, he’s not just a – a beast. He’s in there, I saw him. We’re safe.’   
Halt pulled Will into a hug. He had never felt such relief in his life. 

* 

The next morning, Halt went to find Gilan. He took his spare clothes, a spare pair of boots and his oakleaf, all wrapped in Gilan’s cloak. His former apprentice had needed to take it off to get to his oak leaf, but by the time he had he had been too far gone in the transformation to take off the rest of his clothes, which had all been ripped to shreds. Halt left them where they were.   
Gilan’s trail was not hard to follow and Halt found him with little effort crouched by a pond, washing off blood and dirt. Feathers and bones littering the ground near the pond indicated he had found a swan to eat, perhaps two.   
Halt had never done this before – they had always left a pack for Gilan at the edge of the woods that he would keep clothes in for the morning before coming back to the hut. Part of Halt felt like he was intruding, but a much larger part just wanted to protect the man who now seemed very young. He remembered the first month his apprentice had spent with him and how he had come back in the morning shaking and with is head bowed, scared that he would be considered too much of a hassle to train and sent home. The figure in front of him now looked so much like the child he had seen then.   
Gilan scrubbed his face one more time and sat up, tossing his hair a couple times to get it out of his face. ‘Hi, Halt.’   
Halt draped the cloak around his shoulders and Gilan drew it tightly around himself. He held the clothes out to him. The oakleaf glittered on top in the morning sun. When he reached for the clothes, Halt saw a burn in his palm from where he’d grabbed it. ‘I’ll treat that when we’re back with the horses,’ he said gruffly.   
‘Thanks.’ Gilan’s voice was hoarse. With Halt standing behind a tree to give him privacy he dressed and put the oakleaf on, tying the broken ends of the leather to keep it in place, then he pulled on the boots and went to Halt. In silence they walked through the trees to where Abelard and Blaze stood waiting. Blaze’s saddlebags held some travel food, and Halt knew Gilan smelled it when a smile curled his lips and he sped up to cross the distance between them faster. He greeted Blaze first, rubbing his nose and neck, before reaching into the saddlebags and drawing out the biscuits they held.   
Gilan ate with one hand while Halt rubbed salve into his burn and put a clean linen bandage over it, then they mounted their horses and rode at a trot past the farm they had spotted to a larger one farther off. ‘Didn’t want to risk the people at the closer farm asking questions,’ Halt muttered, and Gilan nodded in understanding.   
Though they must have gotten a late night, Will was waiting for them when they arrived, perched on the railing around the paddock holding the farm’s livestock. He jumped down and ran over and Gilan dismounted to meet him. As soon as he was close enough Will flung his arms around him in a tight hug, which Gilan returned.   
‘Will, you fool,’ he muttered. ‘Don’t you know how much danger you were in last night?’   
‘It doesn’t matter now,’ Will said.   
They only drew away reluctantly and Will took them to the barn, where a hearty breakfast – ‘The farmer’s wife insisted,’ Will said with a grin – sat waiting for them. The food hadn’t yet been touched.   
The biscuits hadn’t done much and Gilan wanted nothing more than to devour the food in front of him, but he forced himself to look around the barn first. Almost instantly he saw what he was looking for. Their three prisoners were bunched tightly in a corner. Their hands and legs were still bound, but their hands were in front of them now and enough rope was between their wrists to let them have a simple breakfast of hard bread and cheese. Fanned out in front of them were two large dogs and six geese, and whenever the bandits moved too far from their corner the dogs would growl and the geese would hiss. Gilan smirked. ‘Effective way to guard them. Maybe the corps need to invest in a flock of geese.’   
‘That might not be a bad idea. That same idiot who tried to ride Tug yesterday tried to walk past them and they attacked him so bad he went back to his companions,’ Halt said.   
They ate their fill as Halt and Will explained what had happened after Gilan had left. They had ridden on to the next farm, confusing the family greatly when two rangers, three horses and three bandits had banged on their door in the middle of the night. The family had let them use their stable, which locked securely from the outside with a plank of wood set into iron brackets on either side of the door, and Halt and Will had passed a restless night guarding their prisoners. Before he had left Halt had sent a trustworthy farmhand with a fast horse to the nearest town, with a letter saying they needed the help of the local law enforcement to transport prisoners. They could expect them back by midday.   
Neither Halt nor Will treated him any differently, and Gilan showed his appreciation in the way he checked Will’s injuries and made sure he was all right after their eventful night. When Will smiled and assured him he was, Gilan knew he was telling the truth. 

* 

Will was saddling Tug slowly and Gilan could see the stoop in his shoulders even with the horses between them.   
‘Cheer up, Will, we’ll still see each other at the gathering,’ Gilan said.   
Will shrugged.   
Gilan sighed. He knew Will would bounce back as he always did, but at the moment the disappointment of leaving once again was overwhelming him. Gilan would be remiss if he didn’t admit that he didn’t want to leave, either. He moved around Blaze and Tug to ruffle Will’s hair. ‘Hey, I’d stuff you in a saddlebag and bring you with if I didn’t know Halt would kill me for it,’ he teased, and succeeded in making Will grin.   
They had spent a week at Castle Araluen as the prisoners faced trial and all three gave their testimony. Halt’s was the most important, as he had been around when Randall was still a ranger. Now it was done with, Duncan had sentenced Randall to hang and the other two to hard labour, and Crowley, apparently enjoying rangers coming to him for once, had already handed out their new assignments. Will and Halt would be going back to Redmont to deal with theirs, but Gilan’s would take him far north of Meric and he would have to go in a different direction to make good time.   
‘Neither of you are done yet? I expected better from you,’ Halt said gruffly, slipping noiselessly into the stable and going to Abelard. He started saddling him with care and speed.   
Will drew away from Gilan reluctantly and Gilan went back to Blaze, and both horses were ready within minutes. Then the rangers rode out into the morning sun. Gilan’s oakleaf gleamed on its new string and as he turned Blaze he raised his hand to wave at Will and Halt. The burn had healed almost completely, except for a few areas where the edges of the oakleaf had dug into his skin as he ripped it off.   
Halt, his usual taciturn self, nodded in parting, while Will raised his hand in answer. Then they turned and rode off in their separate directions. Will and Halt rode in silence for a while.   
‘Halt?’   
Halt grunted in response.   
‘Will you let me go on missions with Gilan again?’ Will sounded hesitant.   
Halt thought back to his last words to Gilan the night before. He had gone to Gilan’s rooms, ostensibly out of curiosity about his new assignment, but mostly wanting to soothe the waters between them. _‘I’m sorry I doubted you, Gilan,’_ he’d said, just before he left.   
Gilan had responded only with an easy smile that told Halt without a doubt that there were no hard feelings between them.   
‘Oh yes,’ Halt said. ‘Crowley noticed how well we work together.’ He glanced at his apprentice and answered the boy’s beaming smile with a rare one of his own. ‘Yes. You’ll work together with Gilan again.’ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this in like,,,,,,, an hour or something. It feels kinda weird to think my first multi-chapter fic for this fandom is over. 
> 
> I hope everyone had just as much fun on this journey as I did :')


End file.
